earth contaminates your blood; sentiment rakes its claws
across your brow, wrestles your eyes tender.
i marvel at how little your heart sleeps,
its wingbeats stirring soft, hot revolutions in your dreams
(while mine quivers, laughing darkly, like a dying coal).
i want nothing more than to swallow your exhalations,
your warm sweat, your voice in the late morning,
the twitch of your knuckles, your throbbing mouth
until they fissure my ribcage, an artificial pulse.
but my ears are not built for bellsongs.
my skin is too frail to bear the roar of tempests,
tectonic yawns, silver armies, sun-flecked tides.
i am at a disadvantage, my salt-drunk friend:
i am landlocked, and my sky holds no technicolor.
passion is intelligent and beautiful and way underrated. fuck sadness and aloofness and apathy being associated with intelligence, and fuck world weary assholes who don’t get that and decide to romanticize the feeling of being disconnected and empty
There’s no use sugarcoating the fact that I was hopelessly depressed last semester. Now, for the first time in a while, I feel awash in a sense of belonging. (Really, being able to sense things at all makes me grateful. Being able to feel things so profoundly again, be it passion for a fictional world or anger at an injustice or pride at a finished assignment, is something I’ve learned not to take for granted. That’s one thing that’s come out of this ordeal, at least.)
i have midterms tomorrow and here i am
Melanie Martinez - Toxic
(On the bright side, I think I may have the ability to wear bright red lipstick with casual abandon. It might be a useful life skill.)
“Just one Kiss”, graphite, watercolor and ink on wood, 30x30 cm, 2013.